


Alternative Medicine

by Schwoozie



Series: And Baby Makes Four [12]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Zombies, Blow Jobs, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Domestic Fluff, Dubious Science, Established Relationship, F/M, Hair-pulling, Light Dom/sub, Multi, Older Man/Younger Woman, One Shot, Polyamory, Pregnancy, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 01:50:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12002427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schwoozie/pseuds/Schwoozie
Summary: Beth's new doctor is adamant about switching out her anti-depressants for supplements that have less chance of harming her growing baby. Beth is reluctant, but she knows she has to dosomethingto keep the doctor happy. Luckily, she and Rick devise a strategy that'll keep Mommy and Daddy pretty happy too.





	Alternative Medicine

**Author's Note:**

> Jackie gave me this prompt literally _years_ ago and I am very proud to have filled it at last.
> 
> FYI: This fic contains bad, bad, _bad_ medical advice. Not quite as bad as [using cunnilingus to treat a snake bite](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3347540), but. Take your prenatals, people.
> 
> Warning for brief mention of suicidal thoughts and anti-depressants.

After fumbling with her key for a solid minute, Beth finally wrenches the door open and stomps into their apartment, shaking the snow from her shoulders as she shuts the door violently, catching her scarf against the doorframe in the process.

“Fricking heck,” she mutters, opening the door to jerk her scarf free before slamming it back closed. Then opening and slamming it again for good measure.

She stands, facing the door, tense, head bowed, breathing heavy... until the click of a pen makes her jump half out of her skin.

“Jesus!” she shrieks, hand to her chest as she spins, coming to a stop with heaving shoulders and Rick in front of her on the sofa, socked feet on the coffee table, police file in hand and glasses on his face. He's looking at her, eyebrows raised, calmly nonplussed. “Je-, god, Rick, you didn't have to scare me like that!”

“Didn't mean to scare you. You looked like you needed snapping out of something.” He tilts his head and squints through his glasses. “What's up?”

Beth huffs, yanking the damp scarf from around her neck and throwing it in the direction of the kitchen table.

“Just been from my doctor's appointment,” she says.

“Everything ok?” Rick asks, tone abruptly urgent.

Beth turns away from pulling her jacket off, put to pause by his concerned tone. “No, yeah, it's... ugh, it's nothing. Really.”

“You seem pretty upset for it to be nothing.”

Beth shakes her head, hanging her coat on its hook and bending down to tug off her boots. “No, just... Dr. Beesman retired, and you know how much I liked her, right?” Rick nods. “Yeah, well, this new one is a class-A _jerk_.”

“What'd she do?”

“It's a _man_ , for one.” A smirk filters through Beth's irritation when she spies Rick's eyebrows, raised again. “And you know how much I hate those.”

“Naturally,” Rick says.

“Well, I went in and had the physical, and it was fine, you know. But then he started asking about emotional stuff, how long I've been on medication, any suicidal thoughts, whatever.”

“What, he doesn't think depression is real or something?”

“No, he's fine with that. But it seems the esteemed doctor doesn't approve of psychiatric medication. Prefers _natural_ remedies. So instead of figuring out a way to work my meds around the pregnancy he wants me _off_ them.” Beth huffs out a breath as she finally yanks herself completely free of her boots. “I _told_ him Dr. Beesman said we could work something out but he wouldn't listen. Cause, you know, it isn't like I've been taking these darn things since I was _12_.”

“There are other OB/GYNs that take your plan. We can find someone else.”

“I know. And I will,” Beth says, collapsing into the armchair on the opposite side of the table from Rick. She rests her chin on her hands and pouts. “Just let me be annoyed for a bit first.”

Rick chuckles, and another small smile slips onto her own face.

Her outburst over, Beth takes some time to look at him. Now that he knows no one's dying, he's relaxed again, leaning into the sofa-back and tossing the file he'd been reading onto the table with the rest of them.

From the size of the stack it must be a pretty hefty case, but Beth doesn't see any grisly crime scene photos and Rick isn't serious like he is when he's dealing with a violent crime. It's probably something with a big corporation involved, enough lawyers around to drown everyone in paperwork. The mostly-empty mug of tea on the table tells her he's been at this for a while; maybe didn't even leave the apartment today. He's in a white undershirt, sweatpants the same color as the smattering of grey in his stubble. The shirt's just the right side of too tight across his chest, but he looks comfortable, not at all perturbed by the silence or her wandering eyes.

 _That_ feeling begins to rise in her chest and she struggles to keep it from pouring out as tears. She feels it most in the quiet moments, looking at Rick and Daryl and the furniture of their life together: this weird swell of what she can only describe as _home_. The realization that she'll be observing them like this—soft, easy, guards down—till the day she dies. And being way more than alright with that.

She's been getting this feeling for a long time, but since the pregnancy hormones kicked in it's exploded. A few weeks ago she woke up and came into the living area to find Rick and Daryl sitting at the kitchen table. They weren't doing anything but having breakfast, Rick reading something on his phone as he munched through a stack of toast and Daryl losing himself in thought and his eggs.

Needless to say, she burst into tears, managing to babble her way through an explanation before they dragged her to sit between them on the couch until she calmed down.

She's learned the signs of it and hasn't acted so dramatically again, but that doesn't mean it doesn't come out somehow. When she looks back at Rick's face he's tilted his head again, considering her too. He doesn't look worried for her anymore, but he knows she has something brewing.

Her gaze drifts back to his sweatpants, and she's still feeling _something_ , but suddenly it's a whole lot of something _else_.

“Maybe those natural remedies aren't total crap though,” she says, voice carefully and conspicuously controlled. Rick raises his eyebrows again but says nothing. “There's no harm in trying them, right?”

“Guess not,” Rick says slowly, taking off his glasses and putting them on the table. “What did he suggest?”

“Stuff like fish oil, vitamin D. Zinc.” Her tongue pops loudly on the last word and she just barely keeps herself from bursting into giggles. This isn't her. This has never been her but here she is making the most ridiculous and corny come-on imaginable and now that he's catching on Rick looks absolutely delighted.

“I'm thinking you know where to find some of that?”

“Mmhm.” She isn't hiding the direction of her gaze even as her cheeks feel hot enough to explode, but when she sees the hint of a bulge rising in his lap the stab of heat in her cunt makes her not care at fucking _all_.

She's early enough in her pregnancy that her belly doesn't hamper her movements, and she hopes she looks somewhat graceful as she slides from the armchair to the floor and begins to crawl around the table on her hands and knees. She's in jeans and a turtleneck and her ponytail must be damp and lank from the melting snow, but when she rounds the bend and meets Rick's gaze he's looking at her like she's a Victoria's Secret Angel.

That gives her the confidence to smirk and wiggle her butt a little before she crawls the last foot and ends up crouched between his legs. His hands twitch on his fallen open thighs, and she doesn't blame him; his dick is pushing long and hard against his sweats and she has to drag her nails across his knees to keep herself from going straight for it.

She looks into his eyes instead; struggles not to shiver at the lowered lids and blasted pupils, the clench of his jaw and the muscles standing taut in his neck as he fights to hold himself together.

She has half a mind to pull her sweater over her head—let him see her bra, take it off if he'd like—but if she knows anything about Rick, she knows that if he wants something he'll ask for it.

“I bet you never thought about what Daryl and me are swallowing when we're down here.”

Rick's knuckles turn white as he digs his nails into his thighs, and Beth's smirk only widens as she watches his face grow harder. It always amazes her how he can turn on a dime; just moments ago he'd been a man lounging at home on a snowy afternoon, grey threading through his beard and crinkles around his eyes. Kind eyes, calm eyes, clear blue like a mirror pool.

They're still blue, but darker; storm clouds gather in swirls around his irises, and although the lines in his face have deepened he doesn't look older. Doesn't look younger either. Looks like someone who's got a young woman kneeling between his legs and he knows he can do anything he wants with her.

“I think about it, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice low and deliciously dangerous. Rick reaches out and cups Beth's chin, tilting her head up. She realizes her thighs have started to rub together, seeking friction without her permission. She's the one who started this thing but now she's finding it hard to breathe. “Think about it all the time. Gets me hard at my desk when I think about it.”

Beth shivers, her mouth dropping open easily when Rick presses his fingers into the hinge of her jaw. She knows what he wants; pushes her tongue forward like he's already come in her mouth, wants to see what he's done before she swallows. He moves his thumb from her jaw to rest on her tongue and she only just resists the urge to let her eyes flutter shut.

He doesn't spend long in her mouth, though; lifts his thumb, brushing it against her upper lip before moving to cup her face, thread his fingers in her hair. It isn't a casual touch; his arm is tense, his bicep pushing at his thin undershirt, and she knows that if she tried to move away he would stop her.

“Didn't mean like that,” she breathes, sliding her hands further up his legs, her own thumbs pressing at his inner thighs. “Learned about it in biology. Forgot a lot from that class but I remembered this.”

“I wonder why,” Rick says. He tilts his head as he moves his eyes across her face, slow and methodical like he's reading a book. “What'd you learn?”

“Lotta good stuff in–, in what you give us.” Rick shivers—a tiny tremor that would be imperceptible were she not looking so closely, but she is, and he does—and works his fingers deeper into her hair, gently pushing at her hair-tie and loosening her ponytail. “Protein, you know. Vitamin C.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “Zinc, too.”

Beth realizes that as they've been speaking her face has drifted closer to his crotch. Whether by her own movement or Rick's gently pressure on her head she doesn’t know, but when she flicks her eyes down she almost whimpers at how thin his sweats are. She can practically feel the heat of him on her cheeks.

“Hmm. That'd make the doctor happy, huh?”

“There ain't much,” Beth breathes. “I'd need lots for it to help. Lots and lots.”

“Daily feedings, huh?”

It's Beth's turn to shiver, and she does so violently. Rick's smirk is a little mean as he takes his other hand off his thigh, uses it to tug the hair-tie down her ponytail, fling the elastic onto the coffee table. A few strands of hair fall in front of Beth's eyes and he's quick to push them away, pressing his hot palms to the sides of her face and sweeping backwards, pulling at the skin of her cheeks before tucking the hair behind her ears.

“Might help,” Beth says. Her voice shakes and she lets it shake; feels in Rick's hands how much he likes that. She forces her eyes to stay open and when she breathes out her own breath washes back into her face, deflecting off the cotton of his sweats. He must be able to feel it through his pants; his dick twitches and she whimpers and Rick must have been waiting for that because the next second that solid hardness is against her cheek and he's hissing as he presses her face into his crotch. Beth gasps in a high, shaky breath before tilting her head, cheek now on his thigh as she parts her lips and mouths at the side of his shaft, using her tongue to push the buildup of saliva in her mouth into the fabric, making sure he feels it.

“Shit,” Rick grunts, and Beth smiles as she continues to work him, hand holding him from the other side so he stays still for her as she kisses up his shaft like there was nothing between them.

Before she reaches the head she pulls back a little to examine her work. The fabric is wet in a line up his length. There's a dark circle building, too, soaking slowly through the cotton as he drips into his pants. Her eyes flick to his and she makes sure neither of them look away as she presses her lips to the center of that circle, darting her tongue out and pressing down, sliding side to side with as much pressure as she can manage.

A groan rips through Rick's throat and before she can blink he's yanking her head back, sharp pinpricks of pain spreading through her scalp.

“Take it out,” he growls. “Get your vitamins, baby, come on.”

Beth whimpers, eyes rolling as she tries to see what she's doing even as he holds her head tilted towards the ceiling. She scrambles for the elastic of his pants, trimmed nails scratching at the skin of his belly until she gets a good hold and tugs.

She didn't think he was wearing underwear—if he was, it'd be the thinnest and rattiest pair he owns—but it's still an electric shock through her veins when she pulls his pants down and there's nothing else in the way; only his cock springing up, well on its way to fully erect and looking even bigger without the constricting fabric. His smell blasts into her face and she breathes in deeply, greedily, looking at his shaft like there really is something in there for her to eat.

No matter her indifference to cocks in general—before she met Rick and Daryl she liked porn that focused on the face, felt uncomfortable with those giant, sculpted dicks so close to her on the screen—Rick's makes her breathless. Daryl's does too, but they're so different in shape and smell and heft that it's difficult sometimes to articulate the minute variations in what they make her feel.

All she knows right now is that Rick's dick is beautiful: long and slightly curved, the circumcised head already glowing red with the blood pushing it into the air and towards her face, a strand of thin white liquid bubbling from the slit the moment it meets the air.

Beth feels her already wet mouth flood with saliva and she whines when Rick's grip on her head doesn't slacken. He tips her chin up further until her gaze snaps to his.

He grins when their eyes meet, too many teeth in his smile as he bends down and presses his mouth to hers, biting her more than kissing her, tugging her lower lip far enough out that he's more than just a blur when she opens her eyes, her head trapped between his hands and his teeth. Her fingers still clutch the elastic of his pants and she's tugging almost mindlessly, whimpering until he lifts his hips for the moment it takes to pull the sweats out from under his ass, let them pool at his ankles.

He drags his teeth off her lip, leaving it throbbing as the blood rushes back in, and he settles again, much like he'd been sitting when she first came through the door. His hold on her head relaxes into a caress and she breathes out slowly, trying to push the pounding in her pussy to the back of her mind. There are few real rules to this game, at least those that have been spoken aloud, but she knows that he wouldn't like her touching herself without his permission. Once he's come she can do what she wants, but until then...

His thumbs stroke tenderly at her hairline as he puts the barest of pressure on the back of her head, urging her closer. She re-situates herself, a whimper bursting in her throat when the motion drags her clit against the seam of her jeans. Rick's arched eyebrow tells her he knows what she's reacting to, but he doesn't comment; waits patiently as she gets herself comfortable, only his quivering cock and clenching stomach belying his need.

“Ready, sweetie?” he murmurs. She meets his eyes and nods, swiping her tongue across her lips and letting her own smirk peek through before she wraps a hand around the base of his cock and presses her lips to the tip.

Rick likes projecting the illusion that he's in total control of himself— _make you work for it_ , he told her and Daryl once—and she enjoys equally the challenge of tearing that facade down. After three years together she knows how he works—knows his impatience when she tries to tease, his irritation when she's overzealous, his enjoyment and pride no matter what she does—and it's that knowledge that keeps her pulse steady despite her own arousal, her movements thoughtful and precise as she sucks kisses into the head of his cock, avoiding all but the briefest of brushes against his slit, licking up the dribble of pre-cum that has yet to trickle down his shaft, moaning only partly for his benefit when his flavor explodes in her mouth.

She looks up at him as she works, not playing to any persona but knowing her expression is as questioning as it is blissed. She loves doing this, is _a slut for it, both of them are_ , and part of that is the glow of approval she feels when he shows she's doing it right; looking into Rick's eyes and seeing the hunger there, the tightness of the skin over his temples and the clench of his jaw and the slight trembling in his hands where he's moved them from her head to the sofa... she flicks her tongue against his glans and feels him jump, gives it a harder, slower lick and watches his eyelids flutter, and the flush in her cheeks seems to fill her entire body.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and she hums in acknowledgement before taking the head fully into her mouth, sucking gently a few times before pulling off with a _pop_ , swirling her tongue against his slit before wrapping her lips around him again, rubbing his smooth, throbbing skin with her thumb as she drops a little further, letting him fill her up.

He isn't as thick as Daryl and she doesn't have to worry as much about her teeth, but there's still a _lot_ of him. By the time she's gotten as much in her mouth as she can without straining her breath is puffing rapidly through her nostrils, throat muscles fluttering like they know what comes next.

His breathing is speeding up too, shoulders rising and falling as she splays her free hand across his abdomen, both of them moaning a little as she drags her fingers through the hair there, presses into his solid abs. They flex under her touch, seizing when she hollows her cheeks and sucks deeply. A smile touches her lips as she feels the tremors running through him, knowing he's feeling her, losing control, and she isn't at all surprised when his hand is suddenly back in her hair, yanking her half off his cock as he forces her gaze upwards, burns his own into hers.

“What's so funny?” he hisses in a menacing whisper, his glare and tone enough to make her inner muscles clench. Her panties are growing uncomfortably wet and she won't be surprised if her jeans get soaked through too by the end of this. She can see the smile trying to fight its way onto Rick's lips but she knows enough to ignore it, even as it sends flutters of another kind through her chest. “You think this is a game? You need me, baby; you need my cum.” His fingers clench in her hair, making her scalp burn and tears tingle behind her eyes. “Think you're getting any without working for it?”

Beth shakes her head as best she can with his hand holding her immobile, makes a _nuh-uh_ sound in her throat that must vibrate through his cock, the involuntary shiver it sends through him.

He tightens his fingers even more in retaliation. Tears really do burst into her eyes this time, and when he leans closer she has to blink rapidly to clear her vision.

She doesn't expect his free hand to drop down between them, landing on the button of her jeans and flicking it open in moments before pushing below the elastic of her panties. Her eyes close and she sucks reflexively at the cock in her mouth as his fingers sink between her lips, their press against her pounding clit making her hips jerk.

He yanks at her hair and her eyes fly open, a tear spilling down her cheek as her fist clenches harder around his cock, trying to anchor herself as she rocks against his hand. He's holding still, phenomenally still, and watching him maintain control as she seeks his fingers so wantonly makes her want to let go even more badly. Give him a show.

Before she can he's pulling his hand away and she whines at the loss, accidentally clenching her jaw and closing her teeth. She remembers herself quickly and although it makes him jump, she doesn't think she bit him hard enough to hurt.

But that's not the point. It's never the point. Before she can mumble out a muffled apology his eyes flash and he yanks at her wrist with an iron grip, pulling her hand free of his cock and using it against the back of her own head to drag her forward and down.

She squeals in surprise that isn't surprise at all; at least, emotionally it isn't. Her throat isn't ready when his dick collides with the back of her mouth and she gags violently, pressing at his hip with her free hand and struggling ineffectively to free the other. He groans, long and deep, but instead of fucking her face like she expects him to, he rolls his hips.

He bumps the back of her throat a few more times but it's slow, almost gentle, and even though the pressure has pushed more tears onto her face she can still feel her clit throbbing. He fucks her pussy like this sometimes: pounding into her like a jackhammer until he suddenly stops, buried deep, face close to hers, everything close to hers, his entire being tuned into her tortured gaze as he uses his dick to massage her insides, drag against her tender and thrumming walls like he's licking a wound closed.

She usually whimpers or moans because she doesn't know what to do, overwhelmed by the change in tempo, but this time the dick threatening to block her airway keeps her silent. She raises her teary eyes to his, blinks rapidly so she can see him; see his mouth fallen open and his irises wide like an eclipse, the way he swallows in time with her.

“Oh baby girl, yes,” he says, in that tone he falls into when he leaks out of himself, drops his manners and guards and _speaks_. “Look at you cry. God, I love when you cry. Give me more, come on.” She presses into his next roll and her throat spasms, a fresh runnel of tears springing up as her body fights him. “Darling. Oh, my sweet one.” She hums and her eyes smile. Her lips can't turn up but he sees it. She knows he does.

He lets go of her wrist and hair. He falls backwards into the couch and sprawls down further, blinking at her hazily as she rests her hands on his hipbones, fingers curled, throat relaxing now that he isn't trying to push into it anymore. She could take him deeper, she could try, but when his head tips back and his eyes close she knows he doesn't want that.

“Take it, Beth,” he whispers. “Take what you need.”

Beth closes her eyes too and bobs slowly up and down, focusing on the feel of him on her tongue, the different textures and the weight and how his pre-cum has mixed so thoroughly with her saliva that her own mouth tastes like him. He hums in contentment and she smiles as best she can, moaning so he knows she's happy too, she's enjoying this, as ever the change of pace and the way it jerks her pulse about, keeps her thoughts on a tightrope. Saliva drips down her chin as she opens her mouth wider so she can move her tongue against him too, pushing the back of it up and into the path of his glans every time it passes.

“Fuck, Beth, yes.” He isn't trying to fuck her mouth but his hips are bucking, aborted little movements that tell her he can't control them. She circles her hand back around the base of his cock, holding him steady so she can go to work again. She feels the growing impatience in his body, how he's teetering towards the edge and doesn't want to stop, doesn't want a game this time, doesn't want the agony of being yanked back from the brink, and Beth doesn't want it for him either. She looks up as she bobs her head and strokes with her hand and he's watching her—eyes as-ever half-lidded but no longer predatory, a softness behind them that makes her pulse skip and her fingers tingle—and when his eyes slam closed and his teeth clench and his cock flexes and warm bitter liquid floods her mouth she could swear it isn't just her heart she feels beating at her insides.

Rick gives a short grunt but is otherwise silent as he comes, one hand curling gently around her skull to hold her steady as she continues sucking him, eyes falling closed as she focuses on her throat working, swallowing him down, lips sealed tight around his shaft so even when she wants to gag it all stays in her mouth, giving her the time she needs to take all of him.

She's making satisfied little humming noises when his hand starts pulling weakly at her hair. She slides off of him slowly, catching a final, weak spurt of cum on her tongue before disengaging completely, sitting on her heels and looking at the softening cock in her hand. She presses a soft kiss to the side of the head, the minute jerk of his hips making her smirk as she waits for him to pull himself together.

“Beth,” he murmurs. Her eyelashes flutter as she looks up at him.

If he was relaxed before he's boneless now, muscle tension gone as he looks down at her, a smirk of his own flicking across his lips as she does what she knows he's waiting for: opens her mouth as wide as it will go, extending her tongue and showing him the remaining cum before closing her lips and swallowing, humming again as the viscous liquid slides down her throat.

He pulls gently at her hair, prompting her upwards. She knows she isn't graceful as she stumbles to her feet, tripping over his thigh when the tingles in her cramped feet explode. She lands against the cushions with a heavy _oof_ , smacking Rick's arm when he chuckles but wasting no time in pulling her legs up after her and snuggling into his side, hand settling on his lower stomach and carding gently through his happy trail and pubic hair as he circles his arm around her and tugs her close.

They sit like that for several minutes, immobile but for the slowing rise and fall of their chests, Beth tucking her face more fully into Rick's neck, pressing a kiss to the strong muscle running up from his torso.

Rick shivers suddenly, and Beth watches with amusement as he bends down and pulls his sweats back up, tucking his spent dick inside the fabric. Beth leaves her hand where it is, just under the elastic. A flick of her finger would hit the base of his dick, but she doesn't do that; decides to enjoy instead how hot he is under her palm, the little twitches he makes when she drifts a finger across his pubic hair.

Rick sighs heavily, turning to press a kiss to the side of her head. She makes sure he feels her smile on his skin.

“So,” he says, voice a sated rumble. “Did it help?”

Beth's smile falters and she lifts her head, shivering a little herself when she meets Rick's eyes. Not because of the icy hot burn they'd seared into her skin while she knelt between his legs; but because of the crinkles spreading from their corners, how warm and soft and protected they make her feel.

“Did what help?” she asks, taking two tries to get the words all the way through her scratchy throat.

Rick smirks, and even after all this time she flushes.

He presses a finger against her lips, tracing them, pushing down on the plush surface until her eyes flutter and he's leaning forward, pulling her into a soft kiss. After swallowing the hard, pulsing heat of his cock, his mouth feels all the more gentle, and she pulls her hand out from under his waistband to curl around the back of his neck. When he pulls back she feels like he's blocked her airway again, lightheaded and floating.

He drifts the pad of his thumb up and down her throat, another smirk building on his lips.

“All that zinc I just gave you.”

Beth flushes down to her toes, swallowing reflexively at the ghost of his cum in her mouth. His smirk widens and she purses her lips, suppressing a flutter of giggles.

“Hmm. Maybe a little,” she says. “Gonna have to try a few more times though. Make sure I get enough.”

Rick chuckles, rich in his chest, and Beth presses her face into his neck as a giggle bursts through.

“Well,” Rick says, circling his fingers at the base of her spine until she shivers. “It's here whenever you need it.”

“Promise?” she whispers.

He doesn't say anything. Kisses her forehead instead; urges her closer until she throws a leg over his thigh, rubbing her covered clit against him sleepily. She sighs heavily as his warmth surrounds her, inside and out.

When his hand creeps under her sweater to press against her stomach, she doesn't say anything either. There's nothing to say that he doesn't know already, anyway.

 


End file.
